


Lost puppy

by telera



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dark, Disturbing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Manipulation, Murder, Violence, dark!Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-15
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-23 14:04:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/927358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telera/pseuds/telera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A post-kiling bath scene...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost puppy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maharetchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maharetchan/gifts).



> For the lovely Maharetchan (aka samiferist on tumblr), who wanted a fic where Hannibal bathed Will... and got this dark and disturbing post-killing bathfic in return. I hope you like it! ^^

The smell of blood woke Hannibal up. It was faint and distant, but with a very distinct sweet and tangy note, as if he had been licking a silver spoon. That's what Hannibal thought blood tasted like when he was a kid. He later learnt to appreciate the taste of real blood, and he could tell where in the body it came from. Arterial blood was so full of oxygen it tasted almost alive, like a young sparkling wine. Blood coming from the abdominal cavity was thick and dark, with a sticky consistency not unlike that of a delicate _crème brûlée_. But the blood he could smell in his office was different. Heavy and old, and mixed with many other discordant smells.

 

Sweat. Acrid and stale, its pungency made worse by a rancid whiff of dog hair. Wet wool, fresh and sweet from the midnight rain. Mud in the leather shoes and-- Hannibal wrinkled his nose as he went down the stairs. The sandalwood and incense notes were reminiscent of _Opium_ by Yves Saint Laurent.

 

'Hello, Will' Dr. Lecter greeted as he entered his office. It was dark and silent, but he knew where Will was before turning on the lights.

 

There was no reply, and Hannibal walked to his desk to click the desk lamp on. Then he moved to occupy his chair and looked at the man sitting in the twin chair in front of him.

 

Will was still wearing his glasses, broken and sprayed with little specks of blood. His curls were dripping droplets of rain and sweat on his shoulders, and there were several scratches and bruises on his face. The red, angry lines spoke of long manicured nails. Fake and acrylic, judging by the one currently stuck to Will's stubble.

 

There was no knife in his hand this time. Just dried blood covering his fingers like a crust and a few strands of ginger hair. Hannibal knew it had been a woman long before his eyes focused on the tell-tale wet stain on Will's crotch. He could smell the ejaculate from where he sat.

 

'I just- wanted-' Will murmured, and came to a stop. Hannibal was surprised he was articulate enough to speak. He barely did so after going out hunting.

 

'I'll run a bath' Hannibal offered, and after a long while, Will nodded. 

 

\---

 

Hannibal poured sweetly scented Mediterranean oils to the warm water of the bathtub. He was particularly fond of the chamomile and bergamot bouquet, and added a few drops of the _Erbario Toscano_ blend that he had bought the last time he was in Siena.

 

Will was standing behind him with that lost look on his face that told Hannibal he didn't know where he he had been or what he was supposed to do now.

 

'Come, Will. Let me help you with that'.

 

Hannibal took Will's jacket off and unbuttoned his blue checked shirt. There were more bruises and scratches here as well, and a particularly nasty cut on Will's ribcage. It felt tender to the touch, and Will hissed when Hannibal trailed his fingers over it.

 

'You're doing very well, Will' he soothed as he unbuckled the belt and pulled his trousers and underwear down. Hannibal frowned at the vicious bite marks on Will's right leg. The wound was still bleeding and becoming nastily infected, the festering smell like rotten mussels to Hannibal's nose.

 

'What happened?' he murmured without expecting an answer. Judging by the depth of the canine marks and the mandible arch, it must have been a Doberman or a Rottweiler.

 

'I just wanted- wanted--' Will began, then trailed off. His voice sounded distant and thready, and Hannibal retrieved the medical kit he kept on the bathroom cabinet.

 

'I--' Will began again, and suddenly looked up as if hit by inspiration 'But he's dead now. I buried him on a ditch. Do you think he'll be fine?'

 

'Yes' Hannibal assured filling a small syringe with a good dose of antibiotics. Will barely felt the needle, or the disinfectant Hannibal used to clean up the wound.

 

'I'll dress it in a fresh bandage later. Come'.

 

Hannibal took his robe off and stepped into the bathtub first. He had found it was easier this way, and held out his hand for Will to join him. He did after a hesitant moment, and let out a whimpering sound when he finally sunk in the warm, fragrant water. Hannibal was sitting behind him, his luxurious bathtub big enough to accommodate them comfortably.

 

'Is the water OK?' he asked, but got no answer. He had a washcloth and several soaps within reach, but Hannibal revelled in Will's smell a little longer. He inhaled his hair deeply, then licked out the dried blood on his shoulder, nibbling and lapping his skin as if it were a delicious dessert. Will didn't seem to notice, and Hannibal continued, savouring the blood and slowly licking Will clean.

 

'Her name was Chloe' Will muttered when Hannibal worked a rich lather of shampoo and started to massage his scalp slowly 'But her iPhone was black'.

 

Hannibal washed the shampoo away and selected an expensive conditioner, which he applied liberally on Will's wet curls.

 

'And his name- _Tucker_. I... I once had a dog by the same name. But he was a Dalmatian'.

 

Will closed his eyes when the warm water washed the conditioner away, leaving his hair clean and shiny. He watched unseeingly as Hannibal added a good measure of an orange gel to the washcloth.

 

'Is there carrot soup for dinner?'

 

Hannibal ran the washcloth over Will's chest in circles.

 

'No, Will. Would you like me to prepare it for tomorrow?'

 

Will frowned at the sweet smelling lather on his chest.

 

'Never mind' he muttered, and focused his gaze on the tiles opposite him.

 

Hannibal cleaned Will's arms next, feeling the tense muscles unknot after the strain of the double strangling. He rubbed his hands thoroughly, squeezing the washcloth dry and adding more gel as he continued with his back and lower abdomen.

 

The old scars deserved special attention, and Hannibal noted how Will flinched instinctively when he touched them. He washed them carefully, appreciating the way his body had healed the wounds in a unique pattern.  

 

'Stand up, Will' Hannibal softly instructed, and he helped Will as he stood on slightly shaky legs. The trauma was wearing off, and the vivid nightmares would soon begin. But as always, Hannibal would have no trouble in convincing Will they were just hallucinations disconnected from reality.

 

'Ouch!' Will exclaimed as Hannibal brushed the dog wound unwittingly. He made quick work of his legs and thighs, and left his soft penis and buttocks till last. Hannibal cleaned Will's cock with the touch of a lover, then caressed his balls and puckered little hole with a dab of bath oil.

 

'All done' he said turning the faucet on and washing Will thoroughly. He washed the lather off his own body as well, and meanwhile Will frowned at the red, cloudy water still on the bathtub.

 

'Is there carrot soup for dinner?'

 

Hannibal didn't reply, he only enveloped Will in a fresh bathrobe. He was patting Will's hair dry with a towel when he suddenly looked up with glassy eyes.

 

'Don't call the police, _please'_.

 

The last word was a choked sob stuck in his throat. Hannibal cocked his head, his face impossible to read.

 

'I never do, Will'.

 

That seemed to disconcert Will for some strange reason, but then he nodded slowly.

 

They moved to the master bedroom, where Will lay on his back on the bed, naked and pliant while Hannibal gave him another shot of antibiotics and carefully dressed the dog wound.

 

'I hope you're up to date with all your vaccines' Hannibal murmured, but Will didn't hear him. There was an echo in his head, something he had heard before.  

 

_Tell my parents... please... I love them._

 

Will frowned. He remembered the voice, and the tears. But he didn't know where they came from. He looked around confused, but he was in Hannibal's bed, in a fresh pyjamas and cozily tucked in.

 

'Did you hear that?' he asked in the quiet darkness of the room.

 

'Hear what?' Hannibal murmured behind him. He stroked Will's cheek softly, caressing the soft stubble of his jaw and running circles with his thumb until he calmed down.

 

'Never mind' he muttered, and when he closed his eyes again, Chloe was smiling at him.

 

Will smiled back and drifted off to sleep.


End file.
